


Should've Worshiped Her Sooner

by TimmyJaybird



Series: Diary of a Lonely Housewife [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: 1950s AU, Blowjobs, Cheating, Dirty Talk, Infidelity, M/M, Masturbation, Public Sex, Somnophilia, capeless au, genderfluid tim, handjobs, mentioned/background DamiColi StephRose and BluePulse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Tim's reckless, he knows, when he kisses Kon's best friend in their own kitchen. Reckless because his husband is home, the entire neighborhood is outside- and what if Bart tells? What if his secret finally gets out? Yet somehow, Tim can't say no, and the risk only makes him want all the more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am so engrossed in this AU I don't know how I'll ever find my way out.
> 
>  
> 
> [The floral dress is Tim's first outfit!](http://ind5.ccio.co/8F/TB/C1/8a822e2cb9018e7cd64b1b921a0f37d7.jpg?iw=300)  
> [Damian's style! (Except you'll find his shirt is a different color)](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/f2/f1/41/f2f141adba652f39a149dcbb7bc14e4a.jpg)  
> [The gray dress is Tim's "church wear".](http://up.1sw1r.com/upfiles2/t0171915.jpg)

Tim laughed, reaching up to press his fingertips to his bare lips, as if trying to cover it. His other arm was linked in with Kon’s, as he leaned close to his husband, one of the neighbors from across the street recounting a story about the cat that had gotten out, a week before.

 

Tim had to focus to hear the words. The entire neighborhood was lit up and alive, the summer heat making everyone giddy and energetic. The block party had been two weeks in the making- and if he had had to sit through one more dull planning session in someone’s living room, he swore he was going to go mad.

 

“Kon, your turn for grill duty!” It was shouted loudly, and Kon waved off the couple they were talking to, turning as Bart walked over, pulling off his apron and holding it out. Kon laughed, taking it as Tim untangled from his arm, slipping it on and tying it carefully. Tim folded his arms and watched him walk with Bart, slinging an arm over his best friend’s shoulders affectionately.

 

Once they were pleasantly preoccupied, Tim glanced around, before making his way from the front yard where they had set up the grill- like a few of the other families- and towards the back where their pool was quite  _ lively _ .

 

“Stephanie!” he called, seeing the blonde bobbing happily in the water. She turned and waved to him, kicking her way over to the side and folding her arms up on is, resting her chin there.

 

“Hi gorgeous,” she said, “where’s your arm candy?”

 

“Tending to the hungry masses. Want a drink?”

 

“Do I!” She pulled herself out, shaking her hair free, and Tim took a quick hop back, lifting his hands up and laughing.

 

“Don’t get my dress wet!” he squealed, as she moved like she was heading right for him- but detoured for the towel on the lawn chair next to him instead. She toweled off her hair and shoulders, as Tim added, “ _ it’s new _ .”

 

“I know and it’s  _ cute _ . Flowers for the summer. Love it.” She leaned in then, offered a smirk, “bet Kon will love peeling it off you later.”

 

Tim sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “I don’t know. He’ll be so tired after all this. He spent all day running around, shopping, and then he’s been on and off that grill and trying to talk to  _ everyone _ here. He’ll be dead asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.”

 

“Poor baby,” Stephanie said, reaching up to pat Tim’s cheek, before tossing her towel back on the chair. “Well  _ I’ll _ be getting some tonight, at least.” She took Tim’s hand, guiding him away from the pool and around the house, towards her own front lawn. Rose was there, laughing too loud at someone’s joke, shaker in hand. Tim followed quickly as Stephanie nearly ran barefoot towards her, leaning in and placing a loud kiss to her cheek and nearly tossing Tim right onto the table. “Baby, make me a drink?”

 

“I wondered where you went off to,” Rose said, pretty white hair swept up into a large bun. She reached up, patted Stephanie’s cheek as her conversation partner left, before she reached for the glasses. “Of course. One for you too, Tim?”

 

“Please.” Tim watched her give the shaker a good few jerks, before she was pouring the martinis into glasses. She skipped the olives, setting the shaker down and handing them to both Stephanie and Tim. They were both taking a sip as she asked, “Where’s Jaime? Maybe he’ll take over for me for a bit.” She glanced over at Stephanie, and Tim  _ knew _ that look.

 

He also knew Rose was not interested in impressing any of their neighbors, and if she wanted to drag Stephanie into their house for a round,  _ she would _ .

 

“Let me go ask Bart,” Tim said, turning and heading over to his own lawn. Kon was laughing with another neighbor, and Tim walked over, leaning in and nuzzling his neck. “Honey, where’s Bart? Rose wants Jaime to tag her out.”

 

“He went in the house,” Kon said, and Tim smiled his thanks, heading for the front door. He let himself in, taking a large sip from his glass.

 

“Bart?” he called, and got a loud  _ I’m in the kitchen _ . Tim headed down the hallway, heels clicking on the tiles, until he was in his kitchen archway. “What are you doing?”

 

He was bent over, one of the bottom cupboards open. “Kon said to get the napkins. I figured they were in here.” Tim shook his head, finishing off his martini and setting the glass on the table, as he walked past his friend. He headed for the cleaning closet- which had truly begun to simply be a storage closet, and opened it, finding the large package they had bought just that morning. He closed the door with his heel, walking back over as Bart stood up, and pressed them to his chest.

 

“Here you go.” Bart grinned, and Tim could only return the smile. Bart’s had always been infectious, even more so when there was a little color to his cheeks- probably form the beer he’d had while cooking- and his hair was outgrown, swept out of his face quickly but in a sweet sort of mess.

 

Tim wasn’t sure what it was, but Bart’s eyes flicked, and suddenly they weren’t on his eyes- and then his smile was fading, just a little. He gripped the package tighter, and Tim inclined his head a little, more of his throat peaking out from the high, open collar of his dress.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Peachy-keen,” Bart said, swallowing, and Tim reached out, pressed his hand to his cheek. It had begun to flush a bit more.

 

“You’re a little warm. Do you feel sick?” Bart shook his head, and Tim let his fingers move back, into his hair. Bart’s hair was soft, it always  _ had _ been, and Tim had always regretted that he’d never gotten to touch it more. But when he and Kon were getting married, he and Jaime were planning to be shortly behind them, and well- things had never worked out, like that.

 

Tim sucked at his tongue. He hadn’t thought about Bart in  _ that _ way in a long,  _ long _ time.

 

“You look really pretty,” he mumbled, as Tim took the package of napkins, set it aside on the counter. Bart reached out, his hand finding the curve of Tim’s waist, gripping him gently. Tim could feel his hand shaking. “You should… probably be right on Kon’s arm,” Bart mumbled, yet he didn’t pull his hand away.

 

Tim giggled, breathy, and this was  _ reckless _ , but he was sliding even closer. “I can’t be,” he offered, “with your hand on my waist, Bart.” Bart glanced away, and he looked so damn  _ flustered _ .

 

And Tim could admit, he had always wanted to properly kiss him.

 

He reached out, got his hands on his chest, splaying them over his shirt. They trailed up gently, didn’t quite reach his shoulders, as Tim leaned in so close his breath was war, on Bart’s lips. He inclined his head slightly. “What are you thinking, Bart?” Bart said nothing, his eyes flicking down, and Tim realized they kept stopping on his lips. He could only let them curve into a subtle smile. “Are you thinking,” he purred, so close now he was almost touching his mouth, “that you want to kiss me?”

 

Bart gave a little groan, and Tim was there to swallow it down. He pushed up tight against his own hands, pressed his mouth to Bart’s and kissed him like he was  _ hungry _ . Bart’s hand on his waist tightened, before his arm hooked around him, the other grasping at his back, holding onto his dress. He kissed Tim back, mouth moving quickly, like he was afraid it would be over too soon- and god, Bart had always done things  _ fast _ , Tim couldn’t be shocked the kiss felt the same way.

 

He tried to slow him down, refused to move his mouth to his rhythm. HIs tongue traced along Bart’s lower lip, before it pushed into his mouth. Bart whined, holding Tim so tightly it was borderline uncomfortable, and yet completely right. He turned, until he was pressed up against the counter, and rolled his hips forward, into Bart’s. Bart broke the kiss to gasp, eyes wide like he was shocked with himself, and Tim hooked one arm up around his neck, the other sliding between them.

 

“Look at you,” he breathed, cupping the bulge in his pants against his warm palm. “All that from a kiss?” He squeezed and Bart hung his head, pushing towards Tim’s hand. Tim felt up the shape, feeling his own cock stirring beneath his panties. And god,  _ everyone _ was outside, anyone could walk in-

 

_ Kon could walk in _ .

 

And yet Tim was still stroking him, through his pants. Was biting at his own lip in anticipation. “Have a little fun with me, Bart,” he breathed, batting those thick eyelashes. “Tell me you’ve always wanted to.”

 

Tim wasn’t  _ blind _ , and he’d seen Bart look. But  _ everyone _ looked. But he was truly beginning to think that maybe it was a bit more than just a casual glance-

 

His thoughts broke when Bart reached down, grasped Tim’s wrist and forced it from his groin. Tim stared up, furrowing his brow, and Bart was taking a step back, shaking. “Stop,” he said, shaking his head, “god, Tim,  _ we can’t _ .”

 

“We can,” Tim said, placing his hands on the edge of the counter and pushing his hips forward. “Just a few minutes, it’s all we need.”

 

“You’re my best friend’s  _ wife _ !” Bart reached up, raked both hands up over his face, into his hair. He tugged, looked so thoroughly in turmoil that Tim’s smile fell away. “God, and Jaime…” he took another step back, shaking his head.

 

“Bart-”

 

“ _ Don’t _ !” Bart heaved a sigh, let his hands fall to his sides. “Just… don’t, Tim. I don’t what we just…” he paused, licked his lips and swallowed, and Tim could still see the desire there. “Just did but… let’s forget it. I… need to go find my husband.”

 

He turned before Tim could say more, was hurrying away from the kitchen. Tim watched him go, before he leaned harder against the counter, feeling dizzy. For a moment he swore the walls were crashing down around him, that his bones were dissolving into dust.

 

Bart was going to run out there and  _ tell _ . He had been careless and instead of luring him in, instead of playing this safe and letting Bart  _ burn _ for him, he’d gone straight for him like a teenager.

 

Tim reached up, covered his face with his hands. And yet, his eyes were dry. If anything, he had begun to giggle. And what would happen now? Would Bart make a scene, in front of the whole neighborhood? Would he pull Kon aside and tell him how Tim’s mouth tasted like a martini, how his tongue was sin and perfection? How he had tried to light Bart into fire?

 

Tim straightened up, lifting his head and holding his shoulders and chin firmly. He made his way with slow, dignified steps towards the doorway. He’d go out as this, as something  _ regal _ . Show everyone why men seemed to crumble for him, when they could have  _ anyone _ .

 

He expected to burn the moment he opened the door- but no one was even looking at him. There was laughter, kids from down the street running over his yard. He glanced around, but no one seemed to care at all. He had no idea where Bart had disappeared to, but-

 

“Baby, there you are!” Kon was calling to him, motioning him over. Tim stepped down carefully, crossing the yard to his side, was gathered up in one arm and pulled to his side. “Look who finally stopped by.”

 

Colin smiled, offered Tim a wave, and Tim forced a fake grin, waving himself.

 

“I thought he wasn’t going to bother,” Kon continued, “you hungry? You didn’t eat, right?”

 

“I was working some extra shifts,” Colin admitted, “I’m starved, honestly.” Kon grinned, went off asking him what he wanted, as Tim’s eyes scanned the yard. He couldn’t place Bart, had no idea where he could have disappeared to. Kon finally let go of him, so he could serve their neighbor, and Tim took two steps away, looking off into other yards, through the seas of people that had been invited. For a moment he swore he saw him, took a few quick steps to chase after him, but then-

 

“Flowers? Isn’t that a bit much?”

 

Tim paused, turning towards the voice, and Damian was standing, at the foot of his driveway. He had the heels of his black and white shoes dug in properly, one hand resting on his hip. The other was holding a leash, the large  _ beast _ he called a dog at the end, looking around happily.

 

Tim glanced down at himself, his dress, before folding his arms. And Bart would have to  _ wait _ . “Flowers are  _ fitting _ . At least I don’t look like that.” He nodded towards Damian, towards the cropped black pants that were  _ far _ too snug, the green top tucked securely in that showed off the curves of his shoulders.

 

Tim would never understand how Damian could look at him like some sort of  _ harlot _ when he wore pants that left nothing to the imagination.

 

Damian scuffed, before he tugged on the leash. Titus moved closer to him, standing large at his side, and Tim’s next quip was interrupted by his husband, shouting Damian’s name and waving. Tim sighed, moving back towards Kon, who had given the grill duty off to someone else, was standing with Colin now.

 

Kon whistled, nodding towards Titus. “Look at the size of that dog. Still can’t believe you guys have room for that.”

 

“It’s a damn horse,” Tim muttered, moving up to his husband. Kon curled his arm around his waist, and TIm leaned into him, rested a hand on his chest. Damian was watching the movement, and Tim knew scrutinizing it.

 

He only pressed tighter to Kon over it.

 

“He’s a good dog,” Colin said, “listens to almost everything Damian says. Right darling?” Colin moved over to Damian’s other side, leaned in to kiss his temple. Damian turned his head slightly away from the affection, and Tim narrowed his eyes.

 

Sometimes he thought that maybe, if Damian was a bit more interested in his husband, and not everyone else’s damn  _ business _ , he might be a bit happier. And he didn’t understand it- Colin was a sweetheart. A good man down to his bones. Tim always enjoyed a good conversation with him- and he wasn’t bad on the eyes. His hair was always a bit messy, but his freckles were charming, his toothy smile endearing.

 

And Tim  _ knew _ the money Damian came from- after all, he had it too. He wouldn’t have married Colin unless he chose him, for some reason. But Tim had never gotten that story.

 

“You look lost, Drake,” Damian said, “in fact, I feel I interrupted. Were you looking for someone?” His lips curved into a smirk, and Tim wanted to slap it right off his face.

 

Tim tightened his mouth into a line, as Kon looked down at him. “Who’d you lose?” he asked, and it was so  _ innocent _ .

 

“Bart,” Tim admitted, and he  _ hated _ the sly grin that was now growing on Damian’s face. “He ran off and I was just curious what trouble he was getting into.”

 

“I think I saw him with that husband of his,” Colin offered, tossing the last of his hot dog up into the air, letting Titus catch it. Damian frowned, disapproving, but Colin was reaching out, scratching the dog behind the ear. “Looked in a bit of a hurry.” He grinned, and Kon was  _ laughing _ .

 

“He gets handsy after a few drinks. Jaime probably just needs to calm him down.” Tim exhaled in relief, and Kon was guiding him through the yard. “Come on you two, make the rounds and say hello to everyone!”

 

Colin was smiling over that, hurrying to catch up- but a glance back, and Tim saw Damian hesitating, before clicking his tongue, walking slowly with Titus lumbering at his side.

 

*

 

Tim bit his lip, his hand moving slowly beneath the blanket. His nightgown was ruffled up, over his pelvis, his hand wrapped around his cock. The blanket was still laying over him, and against the sounds of his slick palm- thanks to his precum- against his cock, he could hear Kon’s gently breathing.

 

He’d been right. Once everyone had finally turned in and they’d cleaned up, Kon had fallen right to sleep. There’d been an affectionate kiss to Tim’s temple and hair, and he’d been on with one large arm over Tim. He had since rolled away, and Tim had been left to lay awake, staring up at the ceiling and feeling  _ unsatisfied _ .

 

It wasn’t like he could blame Kon- he was tired, too. It had been a late night, and he had spent the rest of the evening concerned over what Bart might say. But he hadn’t even seen him- he’d seen Jaime come back, later, saying he was taking his husband home. There’d been a rounds of laughs and cheers over  _ why _ , and he’d waved them off, thanking everyone and promising to see them again soon.

 

Not a single look towards Tim like he was the devil. Like he’d tried to steal his husband away.  _ Nothing _ . And Tim let himself believe that maybe it would be okay, after all.

 

Another bullet dodged.

 

He tipped his head back, sliding his hand back down his cock. The fear hadn’t changed how  _ charged _ the kiss had left him, and the fact that Kon hadn’t gotten his hands on him all day- well. Tim couldn’t be shocked that he was sprawled in their bed now, slowly jerking off while his husband slept.

 

Tim pulled his free hand from the blanket, let the back of his hand rest on his forehead. He’d been so careful to be quiet, to move slow so as to not wake Kon, and it was driving him wild now. A few quick strokes and he knew he’d be done- but instead it was still that wet, slow glide of his hand, as his toes curled into their sheets. He sighed, before he bit at his lip, huffing through his nose and thinking about how good it would feel, to be riding Kon in that moment-

 

Or Jason. Or Dick. Or just about  _ anyone _ . Didn’t matter that Dick had never gotten more than a few fingers in him- and those entries had burned into his diary, had him sliding his hand beneath his dress the moment he was done at the memory- he could imagine it still.

 

Tim’s hand slid down off his forehead. He opened his mouth, dug his teeth just enough into his hand that it hurt, but it muffled the groan he couldn’t hold in. HIs hips gave a gentle buck, and suddenly his hand was sticky, cum rolling down over his knuckles. He curled his toes again, dropping his head back, stroking until his orgasm waned, before his hand fell from his cock. He lay there catching his breath, knowing he’d have to be careful, cleaning up, so as not to leave any evidence behind-

 

Or wake his husband.

 

Tim very carefully moved the blanket off him. He sat up, reaching for the tissues on his nightstand. He cleaned himself up, before he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He let his panties fall from the ankle they’d been hanging around, left them on the floor as he moved to the small wastebasket near the dresser, tossing the tissues away. When he turned, glanced back, he took a moment to just look at Kon, laying on his back now.

 

Before he moved, very slowly. He crawled up onto the bed, pausing on his knees and one hand facing his husband, the other sliding beneath the blanket, over his stomach to tease the waistband of his pajama pants. When Kon didn’t react at him plucking at it, he slipped his hand beneath, ran his palm over his briefs, feeling the heat of his groin. Tim bit at his lip, rubbed at his flaccid cock through his underwear.

 

Kon’s breathing hitched, he shifted- but those gorgeous eyes stayed shut.

 

Growing bolder, Tim squeezed, rubbing his thumb along Kon’s clothed cockhead, over and over again. He could feel him stiffening slowly. Occasionally his breath would hitch- but it was only when Kon was hard and he could give him a proper stroke that he moaned. His head tipped back, but he stayed relaxed, and Tim pulled his hand out, just to guide the waistband of his briefs and pajama bottoms down, until his cock was free. He wrapped his hand around the base, took his time dragging his tongue slowly all along the head, gathering up the precum there and shivering because he  _ loved _ how his husband tasted.

 

Tim swayed his hips, thighs rubbing together. He was getting hard again, the thrill of doing this making his heart pound in his temples. He opened his mouth, sucked the head in, rolled his tongue over it one more time, before easing his mouth lower.

 

That earned him a low, guttural groan, and then a buck of Kon’s hips. A moment later and his husband was gasping, arching up, and Tim  _ knew _ he was awake.

 

“T-Tim” he breathed, trembling, and Tim pulled off, the wet pop filling their quiet bedroom.

 

“Hi honey,” Tim whispered, looking at him as his hair fell into his face. Kon was pushing himself up on his elbows, eyes wide, and Tim gave the base of his cock a squeeze. “I tried to wait,” Tim mumbled, “tried to be a patient girl but…  _ I need you _ .”

 

Kon groaned again, lifted a hand and grasped at Tim’s ass. His nightgown didn’t completely cover it, and Kon squeezed the warm flesh, tugging at Tim and trying to get him closer.

 

“Baby, use your tongue,” Tim whispered, batting his eyelashes and knowing there wasn’t a world where he wasn’t going to get his way. Kon pulled at his hips again, and Tim let go of his cock, so he could swing one leg over his husband, knees resting on either side of his chest. Kon lifted his head, got both his hands on Tim’s ass and pulled apart flesh, pressing his hot tongue against his hole and dragging up along it in heavy laps. Tim whined, shivering, before he dropped his head, pressed subtle but wet kisses to Kon’s cockhead.

 

Kon’s fingers dug into his ass, his tongue tracing his hole before it was pushing in. Tim sucked down on his cock, muffling his noises, as his cock dripped right onto his pajama top. Neither cared. Kon’s tongue fucking him exactly like Tim wanted- and Tim, barely able to breathe over it.

 

He pulled off again, nuzzled Kon’s groin and gave his cock a loose struck. “Wanna ride you,” he whispered, and one of Kon’s hands was off him, blindly reaching for his nightstand. He had to pause, leave Tim to kiss around the base of his cock as he managed to get the drawer open. A few fumbling fingers later, and he had the lube in hand, popping it open. Tim listened to the wet sounds, before he felt two thick fingers pushing into his body, and he tossed his head up, crying out.

 

“Is it okay sweetheart?” Kon asked, even as Tim pushed himself back, fucked himself on his fingers.

 

“Yes,” he panted, “god,  _ god Kon _ .” He trembled, not letting Kon take his time. He’d nearly forgotten about his hand on his husband’s cock, kept his fingers curled around the base but unmoving. Yet Kon didn’t protest- gave a few subtle lifts of his hips, but he was so  _ focused _ on Tim then, spreading his fingers before adding a third. He made a point to curl them but avoid his sweet spot, so as to keep from working him up too much.

 

Tim was shaking now, little moans and mewls leaving his rosy lips. He let go of Kon’s cock, jerked his hips away, forced Kon’s fingers from his body. He moved off him, only to turn, shift back so he was straddling his waist. He grabbed the lube, and Kon was reaching for his nightgown, lifting it up higher so he could properly see the jut of his cock, as Tim poured lube down onto his cock behind him, wrapped his hand back around his shaft and gave him a few solid strokes.

 

Then he was lifting himself up, and Kon was watching as TIm settled himself down on his cock. He groaned, watching Tim’s cock give a twitch, as it dripped more precum down onto his pajamas

 

“Baby,” Tim cooed, shaking in his thighs as he settled, Kon fully inside him. He swore he could have come then, but he was fighting it off. He reached down, took the ruffled layers of his nightgown in his own hands, allowing Kon’s to drop down to his smooth thighs, and lifted it up, over his belly and clutching it to his chest. He rocked his hips, gyrating in slow circular motions, and Kon arched, groaning loudly from his gut.

 

Tim smiled to himself, lifting himself higher. Kon’s hands gripped his thighs firmly, and Tim slammed himself down, shouting at he arched. His cock pulsed, and  _ god _ he was wetter than usual, but ten minutes ago Kon had been  _ sleeping _ and now Tim had him inside him, was riding him like he’d wanted to, when they’d gone to bed.

 

“Kon, honey,  _ talk to me _ ,” Tim managed, and Kon was lifting his head, getting the full picture.

 

“ _ How _ ,” he breathed, “when I can’t even remember my name.” Tim smiled at that, cheeks flushing, and one of Kon’s hands left his thigh, wrapped around his cock and gave him a tight stroke.

 

Tim couldn’t even be  _ embarrassed _ , when he came from that single touch. He cried out and shot pearly ropes up along Kon’s chest, arching back and forgetting how to breathe, what air even was. He clenched around Kon, over and over again, before finally slumping down, hanging his head. He’d barely taken a breath when Kon was rolling them, pulling out of Tim just to get him splayed out, on his back. Tim gasped, and Kon was shoving his cock back inside him. It was  _ rough _ , hard, and Tim was crying out loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as Kon doubled over him.

 

Hi hips pistoned quickly, rhythmless and seeking out his own pleasure. Tim spread his thighs wider, reached up and dug his nails into his pajama top, at Kon’s shoulders. When Kon leaned down further, Tim pulled himself up, met him for a kiss that was all teeth and tongue. Kon bit at his mouth, growled, and Tim felt utterly  _ small _ , felt like Kon was trying to take him from the damn world and let everyone know he was  _ his _ .

 

If he could come again, he could have, in that very moment.

 

He breathed Kon’s name into his mouth, let his tongue fuck his mouth, until Kon was grunting, growling, and Tim could feel each pulse of his cock. He sighed, holding on tightly, eyes falling shut as he swore he could black out.

 

Kon’s kisses slowed, stayed heavy but turned gentle, affectionate. The slow, wet sounds echoed in the room, and Tim sighed, content and satiated now. When Kon pulled off his mouth finally, Tim let his eyes flutter open.

 

“You,” Kon whispered, “are the best thing in this damn world.”

 

Tim flashed a smile, and Kon leaned down, kissed the bridge of his nose.

 

“If every husband woke up like  _ that _ , this world could be a better place.”

 

“What? With  _ my _ mouth on their cock?” Tim dared a smile, and Kon laughed, leaning down and nuzzling Tim’s neck, breathing in the faint scent of his sweet, the calming, subtly sweet scent of the lotion he always put on before bed.

 

“Never,” Kon whispered, “you’re  _ mine _ , Timmy.” Tim shivered, and Kon kissed his pulse. “My princess and no one else’s.”

 

Tim arched a little, and somehow he wanted Kon to spend the entirety of the night laying claim to him, wanted him to  _ know _ every way he had been touched by others- so Kon could make up for it.

 

He wanted Kon’s mouth on every inch of skin, trying to take it back.

 

*

 

Tim shifted slightly, hands folded in his lap as he sat in the pew, diligently quiet. Kon was next to him, eyes facing forward as was expected, watching as the priest lectured in that drawling voice he had.

 

Tim  _ hated _ church, if only because he didn’t like to sit in such silent for so long, as still as he was expected to. He didn’t mind dressing him and primping extra- and who did he have to impress,  _ the Lord? _ \- and usually, he didn’t mind getting up on one of the few days he and Kon could stay snuggled into bed together.

 

But today,  _ he minded _ . He minded because they had been up in the middle of the night due to his own desires- and while it had been  _ glorious _ , he’d woken up wanting more. Wanting to ride Kon until the morning was gone and they were only stopping because they were  _ starving _ and needed to eat so they could have to energy to do it all over again.

 

He wanted marathon sex, not a lecture on Satan and sin.

 

He fidgeted again, looking around. He knew the faces, the ones he saw  _ every _ weekend. If anything, showing up was truly only for public face. He knew Kon wasn’t a fan either, but Tim’s  _ parents _ had raised him at this church, and Kon wanted to keep up appearances for them. Wanted the Drake approval in ways Tim wasn’t even sure he could fully grasp.

 

He dared to glance over his shoulder, back across the aisle and two pews. Bart and Jaime were there, in their usual spot. Tim hadn’t gotten to chance to greet either of them, before mass started. He and Kon had been a little late- because Tim had  _ begged _ Kon to let him have  _ something _ , but there was no time, his husband had been firm- and had barely settled down before things had started.

 

Bart glanced up, and the moment he saw Tim looking, he quickly looked away. Tim turned, trying to look less obvious, but he was still subtly watching. Bart was fidgeting, kept glancing his way, before he was leaning over to Jaime, whispering something and standing up. He crept back the aisle, and Tim jerked his head forward, wringing his gloved hands together in his lap.

 

He’d taken two breaths before he knew what he was doing.

 

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, leaning closer to Kon. Kon glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “I need some air,” Tim continued, “Feeling a little faint.”

 

“Let me come with you.”

 

Tim reached over, patted his husband’s solid thigh. “You stay put,” he whispered, glad no one was looking at them, “learn some of the Lord’s work for me.” A quick squeeze, and Tim was up, walking calmly down the aisle. He moved out the doors to the large, inner room, and glanced around the space before the doors, leading outside.

 

He turned to his right, heading for the small doors that led off to the Sunday school room. He pushed them open, glanced around the room. The lights were off, and it was still, empty except for the figure standing by the windows, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“There you are,” Tim said, stepping inside and pulling the door shut. His white heels clicked on the tiled floor, and Bart’s head jerked back to look at him.

 

“You can’t be here,” he said, and Tim frowned, cocked a hip that showed with the srawy of his gray dress.

 

“Honey, I learned to be a good little girl in this room.” Tim pointed to a chair, facing the large desk. “I sat there and I listened to how I should get myself a good husband and by the doting wife he deserved.”

 

“Looks like you didn’t take those lessons to heart.” Bart had turned now, had his arms folded, looked more defensive than anything else.

 

Tim clicked his tongue. “I love my husband.”

 

Bart huffed. “Yet you propositioned me in your damn kitchen.” He fidgeted, and Tim took two steps towards him, accentuating the sway of his hips.

 

“If I remember, your mouth was very willing.” He flicked his eyes to Bart’s lips, watched them part as he exhaled. “Tell me, was it so bad? Having me in your arms?”

 

Bart swallowed, reached up to loosen his tie a little. The only time Tim ever saw him in one was for church. He almost wished Bart had worn a dress, as he occasionally did. He thought it did wondered for his figure.

 

Tim took another few steps, until he was stopping directly in front of Bart. He reached out, dragged one finger down his chest, over the patterned yellow vest he wore under his jacket.

 

“You want me,” Tim breathed, and he was smiling, because he knew it was true. “And that scares you.” Another swallow, heavy, and Tim leaned a little closer. “Did you go home and fuck Jaime? Did you pretend that it was me, clenching around your cock?” Bart gasped, and Tim grasped his tie, dragging him closer. “Did he put his mouth here-” Tim reached down with his other hand, cupped Bart through his slacks, “and did you come wondering how pretty my lips would look covered in it?”

 

Bart was shaking, and Tim could feel his cock. He was hard,  _ painfully so _ , and a gently squeeze had Bart whining like his knees might buckle.

 

“You can find out,” Tim whispered, “all you have to do is play with me.”

 

Bart lifted his hands, hesitated with them hovering over Tim’s hips. When they pressed down gently, Tim purred.

 

“Good boy,” he whispered, watched the color creeping up onto Bart’s cheeks. “Now, kiss me like you mean it.”

 

And Bart  _ did _ . He leaned down and pressed his mouth to Tim’s. He kissed fast and hard and needy, and Tim moaned into it, rubbed at his cock and felt Bart’s hips bucking. His own was tight to his panties, throbbing and begging for some damn  _ friction _ . But Tim could wait for a moment or two, if only to get Bart so weak he would beg for the world, from Tim.

 

That was how he liked his men best.

 

Tim took a step back, and Bart followed. Bart followed and he kissed, until Tim was bumping the desk. The same one he used to look up as he sat with his ankles crossed, when he was too young to understand what he could be doing in this room, now.

 

Bart squeezed Tim’s hips, lifted, and Tim hopped up onto the desk. He curled a leg behind Bart, pulled him in between his own, and Bart bucked, grinding into him. Tim moaned, broke the kiss to tip his head back, and Bart was nuzzling his neck, dragging kisses up along his pulse.

 

“You’re my best friend’s wife,” he breathed, and Tim grasped at his shoulders, dug his gloved fingers into them.

 

“And that makes you hotter, doesn’t it?” Bart groaned, and Tim knew he was  _ right _ . He knew Bart had looked at him before, but he knew for  _ sure _ now that the same strange thrill of being  _ bad _ , of sneaking around his husband- it coarsed in Bart’s veins, too.

 

Bart shoved at Tim’s dress, got his hands on his bare thighs and pulled them open wider. Tim didn’t fight it, pushed up, before he slid closer to the edge of the desk.

 

“Let me see,” he whispered, and Bart was fumbling with his own pants, working desperately to get them open. Tim reached down, rubbed a gloved hand between his legs, dress rucked up enough that the hard lines of his cock were obvious, through his panties. Bart bit at his lip, finally got his pants open and his cock free of his underwear. He squeezed the base, and Tim reached out, grasped it in his other hand, gave him a slow stroke as he squeezed himself.

 

Bart’s knees really did almost buckle. He hunched over, slammed his hands onto the desk, and Tim smiled.

 

“You’ll have to be quiet,” he said, rubbed one silken gloved thumb over Bart’s cockhead, “the whole congregation will hear us. Imagine your husband seeing you like this, begging for me to make you come.” Bart groaned, hanging his head, and Tim continued his slow,  _ horribly mean _ strokes. Bart’s cock was leaking now, getting precum on his pretty white gloves, but Tim didn’t care.

 

He squirmed even closed, finally freed his own, and reached up, hooked an arm around Bart’s shoulders. He angled his hips close, managed to get both their cocks in hand, and stroked them both as he kissed him again. Bart bucked, shaking as Tim’s slick cock slid along his own, as his hand made the strokes tight, trying to accommodate for them both.

 

Bart bit at his lip, and Tim mewled. He was bucking gently against his own hand, sucking in each of Bart’s desperate breaths. But it was so  _ good _ , so sinful and  _ bad _ and Tim almost wished a younger version of himself could see him now, could see how  _ powerful _ he had become, all be embracing what this damn place wanted him to throw away.

 

Sex was power. Tim liked to play with power. The fact that it felt good was the best sort of driving bonus.

 

“Did you think about how I’d sound,” TIm breathed, words coming in puffs against Bart’s wet lips, “when I came? Did you want to bend me over or let me ride you? Or see how wide you could get my pretty thighs open?” Bart groaned, so damn loud Tim kissed him, just to keep him quiet. He pushed his tongue into Bart’s mouth, let him suck desperately at the muscle, as his hands grasped for Tim’s slim waist, holding it with a bruising force that made Tim wonder if Bart  _ could _ hold him down.

 

He would never know, he knew that. But he could  _ wonder _ forever.

 

He felt Bart’s teeth on his tongue, when he came. Bart trying to hold him fucking  _ still _ as his cock pulsed and he pumped his hips forward. Tim felt it sliding over his glove, over his own cock, and he gave in, sighed in bliss as he followed. He stroked them in a wet mess until Bart was relaxing, was kissing him slower now, wet and heavy and satiated.

 

Tim finally pulled back, and Bart chased him, stole a few more kisses. And Tim understood why. He didn’t hold that this would be some lasting affair- that Bart would creep over before his husband came home and beg Tim to let him fuck him, right there where they could be caught. He didn’t expect Bart’s hands to wonder his body ever again.

 

He’d have him this one time, and they would never speak of it. He knew Bart, he knew how strongly Bart  _ loved Jaime _ , and he knew even this one lapse would drive him to try and be the perfect husband, until he felt he had finally, silently paid his dues for his weakness.

 

“We have to go back,” Tim finally said, letting go of their cocks. “Eventually we’re going to be missed.” As he spoke, he could just hear the congregation, raising their voices in a poorly sung hymn, and Bart bit at his lip.

 

“Tim-”

 

“I won’t tell,” Tim whispered, leaning back, showing off his legs, not hiding the mess they had made of his glove. “Your husband will never know. Nor will mine. I can keep my pretty mouth shut when I want to.” He flashed a smile, and Bart nodded, reaching around Tim for the tissues kept on the desk. He cleaned himself up, before tucking himself away and tossing them. He straightened his tie and jacket, reached up to try and finger comb his hair a bit. “You go first,” Tim said, peeling his gloves off. “I’ll follow shortly.”

 

Bart nodded, looked like he was about to say something- but then thought better of it. He turned without another word, hurrying out of the room, and Tim listened to his footsteps, until they were gone.

 

He cleaned himself up, stood and readjusted his dress. He tossed his gloves into the trash, balled up so they disappeared beneath the tissues that followed. He had more, he wasn’t concerned.

 

He smoothed his dress down, played with his hair, then tapped his foot, counting slowly. When he reached fifty he straightened his shoulders, headed for the door. He moved back into the church to find everyone standing, singing- still poorly. He walked right for his spot, slid right back in with Kon, and his husband glanced from the paplet he was holding to look at him.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, and Tim flashed a smile, reaching over and wrapping his arms around one of Kon’s.

 

“Of course darling. I’m sorry to worry you.” Tim leaned in, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and Kon flushed, looking around as if he was worried someone would judge any sort of affectionate display within church walls. The singing ceased and they sat down, Tim snuggling extra close.

 

“What happened to your gloves?” Kon asked, even as the priest began speaking again.

 

Tim just kept smiling. He was already thinking about how he’d record this, in his diary. How he’d recount climbing atop Kon in the middle of the night, after waking him with a hand around his cock. How he’d talk about how  _ good _ it felt, to finally get the release he had craved, when going to bed.

 

And how  _ damn _ good it felt, to let his cock slide against Bart’s, when a room away their husbands were learning how to be  _ godly men _ . How he swore he was living some sort of fantasy he must have dreamed up in his younger years, when he had sat idle and bored in this same church.

 

“They got dirty,” Tim finally said, reaching down to tangle his fingers in with Kon’s. “It’s okay, I have others.”

 

It was true. Tim did. He had other  _ everythings _ \- and it didn’t matter that Bart would only cave to his cosmic pull once. He had other lovers that were his whenever he desired. That was his power, in the face of men. Drawing them in and making the crave.

 

After all, men were weak.

 

And Tim, he knew how to make them  _ weaker _ .

 


End file.
